It was at this precise point that the shepherd — looking for a stray ewe and curious about the sounds of life coming from the little copse — discovered them.
He was a good-looking man in his way, with an open face hard and tanned from life in the fresh air, gnarled hands and strong chest and arms. He approached, saw the pair sitting on the ground and, after a few moments’ contemplation of the scene, smiled broadly.
‘Ah, young lovers! Good morning to you both, good sir and young lady. It is a fine day to awake so.’
‘What?’ Rosalind said in utter astonishment, not least because for the first time she found she could understand much of what he said.
The shepherd winked. ‘You’ll have been at the Lady’s Festivity, I’ll be bound,’ he said, ‘“where love blossoms and fair affections thrive,” as they say.’
Rosalind stared open-mouthed. She understood that wink. It was left to Aliena to reply.
‘Indeed, but as it is said also, “love does not always welcome the light, nor the eyes of strangers.”’
‘That is certainly true, young lady. But what is hidden is often the most valuable.’
Aliena nodded appreciatively. ‘You are a very learned shepherd.’
‘And you are a lady of refinement, but what of your silent companion here? Is he so exhausted from his night’s labours he cannot even talk?’ He winked again, which Rosalind found offensive. Aliena, however, seemed to be enjoying herself.
‘Ah, good shepherd, “his virtues do not lie in his words,”’ she said, at which the man laughed heartily.
‘“He who labours, hungers after,”’ he responded. ‘In that case, you must allow me to offer you the sustenance you require, you and your young man. I have a poor abode, small and rough, but it is comfortable and welcoming to those of good heart. In it there is porridge and milk fresh from the ewe; bread and butter, honey from the hive. All that man or woman could desire. Or almost all,’ he added with another wink.
‘Lead on, then, good man,’ Aliena said with a curtsy, ‘and let us be honoured by your hospitality.’
‘As my house will be honoured by your presence,’ came the reply.
He whistled to his dog, which bounded up and sniffed around the newcomers, then walked off. Aliena dug Rosalind in the ribs. ‘Wasn’t that lucky?’
Rosalind, however, was still in a state of indignation. ‘But he thought... he thought... He winked at me.’
‘You are dressed as a man, you know. Your hair is short, and those clothes cover up your shape very effectively. So of course he winked. Don’t you find it funny?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, dearest Rosalind, don’t be cross! It is a beautiful morning, we are in the forest, we are going to eat. What more could woman (or man, in your case) want?’
‘You have no idea,’ Rosalind said.
‘We can talk about that later. In the meantime, we must eat, and pay for our food.’
‘How are we going to do that? I have no money.’
‘Nor I. We must pay in entertainment. We must give you a new name, to go with your manhood.’
‘Why?’
‘How are we going to cross his threshold if we are not presented to the house spirits?’
‘Oh. Silly me,’ Rosalind said.
She found the meal in the forest cottage even more enchanting than the world of the grand house. Unlike the squalid abode of Aliena’s teacher, it was fresh and clean and airy, more a shelter than a house, open to the elements, with a table outside under a little awning of creeper from which hung delicate purple flowers that gave off a faint but agreeable scent. They were presented to the house as Mistress Aliena and Master Ganimed — this a name that Aliena came up with on the spur of the moment — and breakfast was served, although this was marred a little for Rosalind by the frequent toasts from the shepherd that the fruit of her loins be sturdy. But the food was all simple and delicious.
‘How do you do all this?’ she asked when they had finished eating. ‘All this food? Where does it come from?’
‘Why, my friends give it, in exchange for looking after their flocks, of course. I have a deep cool hole to keep it fresh; the milk I get myself, the fruit I pick myself. The water comes cold from the stream. What more could I desire, which nature does not provide?’
For a moment she agreed, and then Rosalind thought of her mother’s new washing machine, the comfy new sofa, the iron, the radio... there was no point even mentioning such things, though. She would have to explain how they worked, for a start.
‘Isn’t it cold in winter?’
‘Oh, I don’t stay here in winter, young sir. I take my flocks back to their owners and rest myself with them, one after the other, until spring comes again. It is only in the snow months that it is truly difficult to be in the open.’
‘What if you get ill, or something like that?’
‘Then I get better again. If I do not, then I die,’ he said simply. ‘How else could it be?’
Rosalind had no answer to that one, although she felt instinctively that there should be more to say on the topic, so she lapsed into silence while Aliena carried on the conversation. She was beginning to get the hang of how the ordinary people spoke, but it was still an effort to understand, and an even greater one to say anything. She let her mind drift and watched the shadows dance on the ground, feeling the warmth of the air. It was going to be hot today. She should be tired, but her senses were so alive she felt no fatigue, just a sort of dreamy state where she was aware of everything, but only as a bystander. She even stopped wondering where on earth she was. If, indeed, she was on earth.
She came to as she heard Aliena saying that it was time to move on, that they had trespassed on his hospitality for long enough. The shepherd was in no rush, though; Rosalind got the feeling that he didn’t have much company, alone in the woods, and was grateful for the diversion.
‘Where are you going?’
‘We don’t really know,’ Aliena said. ‘Into the forest. We need... time. And privacy.’ Here she glanced archly at him.
He nodded knowingly. ‘I understand. I was young myself once. It is natural that you wish to know each other first. But you cannot go into the forest. It is dangerous if you do not know it. A good friend to those it accepts, but not safe for anyone else.’
‘We don’t have much choice.’
‘Have my cottage.’
‘We can’t!’ Rosalind said, and instantly regretted it. The man’s face fell, the disappointment clearly marked.
‘You must forgive him,’ Aliena interrupted quickly. ‘He is a stranger and does not know our ways. He thinks only of the inconvenience to you, and of our unworthiness for such kindness. Not that your cottage is unacceptable to us.’ She gave Rosalind a look.
The man’s face brightened. ‘There is no inconvenience, as today I lead my flock up into the hills to settle them for the summer, and will not return for several weeks. As for your unworthiness, then mine is the greater.’
‘We will not fight over such things,’ Aliena replied. ‘We both accept your kindness with the greatest of pleasure and honour. Don’t we, Ganimed?’
‘Oh... yes. Of course, honoured. Very,’ Rosalind said.
For two days and nights, then, Rosalind and Aliena lived in perfect happiness in the cottage, cooking, sleeping and talking. Rosalind was delighted; she had never had a proper girlfriend before, someone to talk to without restraint, to gossip and speculate with. Aliena was like her in one thing: she was still at an age when all is believable, if explained by a friend.
So Rosalind told her of her home and her life. Of the pergola in Lytten’s basement. Of her bemusement and slightly giddy feeling about being in a world which Aliena took for granted.
‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘you call it Anterwold.’